


The Lady Is

by Lucky107



Series: San Antonio Rose [5]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 14:23:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8288866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucky107/pseuds/Lucky107
Summary: The distant croon of Frank Sinatra fills the room and though the words are lost, the jazz is sexy and smooth.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The Lady Is a Tramp - Frank Sinatra - 1956

The Tops casino is a change from the sunny New Vegas Strip: it's dimly lit in hues of red and yellow that catch on the smoke hanging in the air.  The distant croon of Frank Sinatra fills the room and though the words are lost, the jazz is sexy and smooth.

"Hey hey, baby doll!"  The man behind the counter catches Virginia off-guard in her marvel.  "Welcome to the Tops Hotel and Casino—I'm going to have to ask you to hand over any weapons you might be carrying."

She doesn't even have to look to confirm the presence of heavily-armed bodyguards, so she stands pretty for her search and seize.  She offers one of the men groping her a cute smile with the intention of distracting him from being too thorough.

It would be such a pity if they found ol' Lucky strapped to her pretty little thigh.

Once she's been let go - with Lucky still safe and sound - Virginia leans onto the counter and asks, "You think I could swindle some time from the man in charge, love?"

The greeter cocks his thumb to the right and says, "This guy's Swank.  He's runnin' the joint—and you can bet your bottom that he'll want to speak to you, baby."

_Swank?_

Virginia tracked Benny across the Mojave, learning in small bites who the man was.  All fingers point to his being the proprietor of The Tops—not _Swank_.  She doesn't let her confusion show, though, and she thanks the greeter with a teasing smile before floating off down the counter to interrogate this Swank character.

"Hello, baby!"  The man purrs, offering Virginia a not-so-subtle once-over.  He's the type of guy one would expect to find in Vegas: he's clean-cut and smooth, but nothing in particular stands out about him.  That makes him dangerous.  "Welcome to The Tops!  What can I do for _you_?"

Tracing the marble pattern on the counter in facade contemplation, Virginia offers, "Actually, love, I'm someone else's problem.  I'd like to speak with Benny, if he's in."

Swank whistles a loud wolf whistle.

"Benny?  You?"  The change in tone is a crude mixture of surprise and disappointment.  "What's up with that, baby doll?  Between you and me, you could do so much better—"

Virginia plays coy, batting her eyelashes.  "You really think so?"

"I know so," Swank encourages, reaching across the counter to take her hand.  "Meet me in my suite tonight and you'll never need to call on Benny again."

\- - -

It’s only in the afterglow that, while pressed flush against this Swank fellow’s taut, bare form, Virginia looks up at him from her cozy spot in the crook of his arm with doe-like blue eyes.  Swank chuckles—a rugged, but comforting vibration—before settling for a groan.  “What’s with that look, doll?”

Virginia coyly traces the outline of the lean muscle in Swank’s torso.  “I’m sorry, love, but I still gotta insists I meet with Benny.”

“You just thought you could use me, that it?”

“Of course not,” Virginia insists and she brushes aside a lock of dark curls to expose recent scar tissue nested just along the hairline above her right eyebrow.  It’s a pretty pink crescent moon, barely visible against her pale skin.  Swank doesn’t even realise that he’s reached out to touch the scar until Virginia places her small, delicate hand over his.  “You seem capable— _strong_ —and I thought you could help me.”

Swank’s surprise is written all over his face when she makes her confession – and it’s not the surprise Virginia’s looking for.  “Whoa, hey now—you sayin’ Benny did this?”

“That’s right,” she explains.  “I just thought Benny might want to take responsibility for his mistake, like a gentleman.”

While Swank wants to dispute the claim – he knows he could, having her vulnerable like this in the heart of Chairmen territory – a small part of him knows Virginia wouldn’t have put herself in this position if she was lying.  She may be a stranger, but she’s certainly not stupid: she did use him—and he’s falling hard.

“Kid, if you’re right about this, then we’ve got a real problem on our hands,” he concludes.  “What, exactly, are you looking for in meeting with Benny?”

“Just to talk,” Virginia insists.  “Cross my heart, love, I ain’t no killer.”

This earns her a chuckle and, despite his instincts advising him against it, Swank gives his lover a small squeeze.  “Christ, all right.  But you don’t want to just talk to that cat, you dig?  When we go back downstairs, I’ll call for him and his guards so you can search his suite.  You won’t get any answers from Benny without leverage; he’s a tight-lipped son of a bitch.”

Wiggling her way up the man’s bare torso, Virginia presses a chaste kiss to his jaw and says, “You’re a doll.”


End file.
